


Boyfriend Jacket Hoarder

by nasigorengart, xyma



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Clothing Kink, Keith has a string of ex boyfriends, Keith has an obsession with boyfriend jackets, Keith is a sophomore while Shiro is a senior, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), Rating may go up, Shiro (Voltron) is a hockey player, Size Kink, They're both rich boys in a rich school for boys, Top Shiro (Voltron), future smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-26 09:32:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14399268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nasigorengart/pseuds/nasigorengart, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xyma/pseuds/xyma
Summary: Keith Kogane won’t give back your jackets even when you’ve long broken up. Even if you need it.Your debate sweater? It’s never going back. Your letterman jacket? Hasta la vista. The jacket that literally has your school's insignia and your last name at the back of it? If he likes it, he’ll keep it. You don’t date Keith Kogane without being willing to sacrifice the jackets you own, or being okay with the fact that he keeps the jackets of his ex-boyfriends. He has the decency, at least, to never wear them while he’s still dating you. He’s a collector, an enthusiast.Except hedoesgive back the oversized jacket of one person, and one person only.Takashi Shirogane.





	1. Keith's POV: Just One Guy, but Why?

**Author's Note:**

> Self-indulgent projection of my own thirst for oversized jackets on Keith because I can.

There is another name Keith Kogane goes by, and it’s “Boyfriend Jacket hoarder”.

In Academy of Lions, a private school for boys reserved for only the most prestigious of students in the country, it’s a huge stroke of luck for them to have no restrictions on jackets. Keith is grateful for that every single day of his life, and even more so with the fact that he’s been told time and time again he’s more that conventionally attractive with a shorter than average but definitely lean body (that he worked hard for, damn), sharp facial features and eyes that people say enchant them for how they swear it’s purple under the right kind of light.

The only reason why that latter bit is important to him is for the fact that the boys are more than delighted to let him borrow their jackets when he intentionally forgets them at home during winter. And Keith? Accepts only the largest of jackets that come his way. He swears it’s not because his taste in men are on the larger - _god, yum_ \- side. It’s purely from his obsession with jackets several sizes larger than him. He’s been doing this since his freshman year after his seat-mate from the basketball club let him wear his jacket, Keith’s sudden love for the feeling of safety in an article of clothing just wouldn’t ever dissipate. It’s like a comfort blanket for an overgrown boy. And what’s a better way to get boyfriend jackets than to have boyfriends? Keith absolutely shivers in the thought of wearing an oversized jacket and only an oversized jacket, sex or no sex involved. How these relationships would end, he’d rather not say - but one thing they all end up having to come to terms with:

**Keith Kogane won’t give back your jackets even when you’ve long broken up. Even if you need it.** There's just something in the way he looks in them that makes you think it was meant for him, maybe, or more obviously his curt, "No.", and walking away when you do ask for it back that gives that ultimatum. 

Your debate sweater? It’s never going back. Your letterman jacket? Hasta la vista. The jacket that literally has your school’s insignia and your last name at the back of it? If he likes it, he’ll keep it. You don’t date Keith Kogane without being willing to sacrifice the jackets you own, or being okay with the fact that he keeps the jackets of his ex-boyfriends. He has the decency, at least, to never wear them while he’s still dating you. He’s a collector, an enthusiast. 

Except he _does_ give back the oversized jacket of one person, and one person only.

Senior Takashi “big buff dorito” Shirogane of the hockey club. Student council member for Sports, nicest goddamn athlete in the campus, and if you’ve never said “yum” while thinking of him - because he’s perfect holistically, mind you, - then you’re **fucking lying.**

This fact baffles everyone, especially the string of ex-boyfriends and young hopefuls Keith has under his belt, now that he’s apparently chosen to stay single since the semester started. Why first of all, have they never dated considering they’ve been friends for years and second, considering how Keith’s fixation on boyfriend jackets would be more than satisfied? Shiro has dated men before - but is currently single - and it’s obvious that he actually _offers_ Keith his jacket before Keith even implies he wants to. They have their own world when it’s just the two of them. At the end of the day, the younger of the two would always, _always_ give back the jacket that was lent to him. People don’t know what this means. 

But Shiro has an inkling as to why, and he fully intends to find out. 

When Keith finds him with his varsity jacket in hand to return it during the break, Shiro stares at him with his hands left unstretched to take it back, even when Keith puts it out to him. The younger boy’s eyes narrow in confusion, tilting his head and lifting a brow to the hockey player. 

“Do you not want it back?” Keith starts, holding it out to him still. Shiro crosses his arms and leans his shoulder against the door frame, stares at him for a moment. 

“Are you free today?” 

“Uh, yeah, why?” He resigns his hand from its previous stretch, decides to finish whatever conversation is going on first.

“Do you.. want to come over?” Shiro continues a bit slowly, making sure Keith has understood every syllable. “I just want to hang out a bit, before exams roll around. If you want, of course.” 

The boy’s mouth opens without a word coming out. A few seconds more he closes it and looks up in contemplation. There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing odd, even. _So why’s Shiro actually reassuring him that he should only if he wants to as if it’s new?_

A beat passes and Keith realizes he’s been quiet for too long.

“Oh. Yeah, sure. I just have to uh, tell mom and dad.” Keith says, eyes blinking a tad too rapidly. Shiro smiles back at him then ruffles his hair and still refuses the jacket, putting out his hand in front of him to reject it before Keith tries again.

“Keep it, give it to me when you’re at my place.” He pinches Keith’s cheek playfully before patting his shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. Shiro steps back and heads back into his classroom. 

He stares at the jacket like it’s betrayed him. Shoulder touches? Usual. Even the squeezes. But pinching his cheek? Not so much. He lets out an exhale and places the hand with the jacket on his chest in relief that he wasn’t being obvious.

There is just too much power in the jackets that Takashi Shirogane owns, he thinks. He guesses it’s in the size of it and the particular warmth, and _fuck_ , his goddamn smell is heaven. It’s too perfect for his fixation to bear while keeping sane. 

He’s never going to let Shiro find out that he can’t bring his jacket home without jacking off to the smell, as this would admit a whole variety of truths: big men are his type, Shiro fits the bill down to the t, he’s into his close friend and high school heartthrob Takashi Shirogane, and the reason for _always_ returning his jacket at the end of the day is purely because it’d make him too horny at home.


	2. Shiro's POV: Just One Guy, but Why? Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro lends Keith his jacket all the time… it’s what friends do, right? It doesn’t mean anything - except when it does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright friends, we interrupt the sexual tension to bring you some soft oblivious Shiro.
> 
> Bonus points if you catch the Hannah Montana reference

It’s no secret that Keith Kogane has _a thing_ for jackets. But not just any jackets, oh no. _Big_ jackets. Jackets so big that you’re unsure of whether it’s Keith wearing the jackets, or the jackets wearing him.

Shiro, of all people, knows this best. Shiro’s been in his orbit for long enough to observe how every time Keith left a man, their jackets somehow left with him. And how there was a definite pattern to the men, too. Bigger, and bigger, and bigger - until Shiro became certain that his next conquest might actually be a _literal_ tank.

Although, none were anywhere _near_ as big as Shiro. Not that he’s bragging or anything. It’s just something he’d… noticed.

They’d been together for longer than he can count on one hand - _platonically_ , of course. Even though Shiro had once joked that out of all the boys lined up to have a chance at dating Keith, he was the most worthy. “Anyone who’s lived through your emo phase deserves to date you, Keith.”

But of course, he was just kidding. It was a joke - a light-hearted statement to be disregarded in passing. Definitely not filled with years worth of buried longing at all.

It’s not like Shiro hadn’t _wanted_ to make a move - Keith had just always been… _occupied_ . He never stayed single for long, _“I think your record’s 5 days_ MAX. _”_ And when he was, he always had some other guy on the side. However, he _did_ come to Shiro for emotional support, and once playfully mentioned that Shiro was like his “real boyfriend” that he always came back to after his “backup boyfriends” fucked up.

But of course, he was just kidding. It was a joke - a light-hearted statement to be disregarded in passing. Definitely not filled with years worth of buried longing at all.

It’s not like Keith hadn’t _wanted_ to make a move - Shiro had just always been… _perfect_ . Between being captain of the hockey team, member of the sports student council, executive member of the _regular_ student council, and single-handedly drop-kicking any “douche-y” athlete stereotypes into the stratosphere - he really did live up to the “Golden Boy” title he’d been given.

It came as a surprise to everyone, including Shiro, when Keith started the new semester single. Even more so when Shiro began his practiced ritual of counting down the days until his place in Keith’s life was inevitably replaced - but it never came.

By this point, Keith had collected many jackets. Many, _many_ jackets. So many, that he’d dedicated an entire corner of his room to them. Which is why Shiro finds it especially odd when winter comes round, and Keith arrives to class bare-shouldered. Sure, Keith had a habit of intentionally “forgetting” his jacket to expand his collection, but even _he_ ’s not stupid enough to show up in a _tank top at -15 degrees C, Keith, what the fuck are you doing?_

 _Ah, he must be seeking his next conquest_ , Shiro realises. As Keith plops down to his right, Shiro smiles a _good morning_ , and braces himself for the usual _“hey, do you mind if I borrow…”_ as Keith would temporarily leave his side to go “shopping”. But no such thing happens, so he’s now faced with a difficult predicament: to prod, or not to prod?

If he were anyone else, the answer would be easy: _never_ question Keith Kogane unless you want a _literal_ knife in your jugular ( _yes_ , he carries a knife, you can never be too safe in the business of dating large men).

But since he’s not anyone else, he goes _fuck it_ , and asks anyway.

“So… what’s with the preening?” Keith’s head painfully snaps sideways, and his eyes widen so much that Shiro’s sure they’d pop out their sockets. _ABORT. ABORT._

 _“…_ what? _OH._ The, uh… _right,_ yeah, well… I just… didn’t feel like wearing one today.” _Right._ Anyone - Shiro or not - can smell that lie from a mile away.

“Really? Not even Ryan Lamotti’s? Y’know… the-”

“-hottie with the swimmer’s body; yeah, yeah… nah. Not feeling it.” Keith lifts a hand to _shoo_ off the topic as Shiro prepares to object with a _“but you_ LOVE _that jacket!”_ Which is probably for the best.

But star hockey player Takashi Shirogane never gives up. It just simply isn’t in his nature. So he contemplates how to investigate further without agitating Keith. They’ve been inseparable for ages - Keith will open up to him eventually. He always does.

A sudden thought sends Shiro’s blood rushing upwards, scathing through his veins right to the tips of his ears.

It’s a gamble - and a _huge_ one, at that. But he figures that he’d rather lose it all than live the rest of his life wondering what might’ve been. Sure, it’s cheesy, but then again - Shiro lives for that sappy shit. So instead of prodding, he casually shrugs off his [favourite NASA bomber jacket](https://nasigorengart.tumblr.com/image/173209897308), and tentatively holds it towards Keith.

Keith merely stares, eyes narrowed as if searching for something in Shiro’s expression. A moment passes. Then another. And then Shiro’s almost _certain_ that he’d misread the situation and promptly prepares to retract the gesture.

But then the jacket is accepted, and Keith drapes it over his shoulders without a word. Shiro breathes a _huge_ sigh of relief.

This marks the beginning of what Shiro discovers to be a routine. He even starts coming to class with a sweater on under his jacket, knowing that it’ll soon leave his possession. Every class they have together, he wordlessly gives Keith his jacket, and receives it back at the end. If they have an after-school activity, he finds himself removing his jacket for the second time. Detention? Same thing. This goes on for weeks before Shiro’s finally struck with the unmissable realisation.

Keith’s been giving his jackets _back_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell Sheith with or at me on [tumblr](https://nasigorengart.tumblr.com/)


	3. Shiro's POV: Just One Guy, but Why? Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith has Shiro's jacket, so the logical solution would be to invite the former into the latter's room later that night to return it. Because, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... can't do titles I'm sorry Xy so I'm stealing yours

The danger of gambling isn’t the statistically proven disadvantage and inevitable loss. It’s the addiction to the high of slight _hopes_ of success. With his and Keith’s future on the table, Shiro’s going all in.

It’s a Tuesday, and much like any other Tuesday, Shiro finds himself sat next to none other than Mr. Jacket Whore himself. He goes through the motions of taking off his jacket (his varsity one, this time), handing it over, and carrying on through the lesson as normal. Only this time, when he finds himself face to face with Keith’s outstretched hand, his jacket artistically hung on an index finger, he merely offers a friendly grin, and leans against the doorframe with crossed arms - exiting students be damned. Not that it would’ve been a problem to begin with; of course no-one would mind having to sidestep _Takashi- fucking-Shirogane_ to exit the class. In fact - some would even consider it an honour.

Keith’s expression quickly switches from one of nonchalance to slight confusion. “Do you not want it back?”

It’s here that Shiro must make his fateful decision. What he opts for now may determine their future. _Ah, fuck - stop being so dramatic._ So he lets himself blurt out the first thing that came to mind before his brain could back out. “Are you free today?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

Oh _shit shit shit._ Shiro really didn’t expect to get this far. Part of him was silently hoping that Keith had something really, _really_ important to do - preferably _today_. Well, obviously luck isn’t on his side today, and he’s already started the fire, so why not stoke it a little. “Do you.. want to come over?”

Silence.

Shiro quickly moves to elaborate, “I just want to hang out a bit, before exams roll around. If you want, of course.”

Another bout of silence.

 _Shit shit_ SHIT _._ Now he’s _really_ fucked up this time. He twists his face and posture into something he hopes looks unaffected by the tension, but just comes off really, _really_ odd. He wants to run. Wants to just say _hasta la vista_ and book it, but star hockey player Takashi Shirogane never gives up. It just simply isn’t in his nature.

So he stands his ground. His torturous, torturous ground.

“Oh. Yeah, sure. I just have to uh, tell mum and dad.” _PHEW_ . _Okay,_ okay - _false alarm. All good._ Keith holds up the jacket in one last attempt, and Shiro pointedly ignores it, opting instead to ruffle his hair. _Theeere we go. Just act casual._ “Keep it, give it to me when you’re at my place.” He moves to squeeze Keith’s shoulder in a movement they’ve come to know as _theirs_ , but this time, he feels the urge to reach up and squeeze Keith’s cheek instead. So he fulfils it. But then adds back their signature gesture to hopefully make it less awkward. Shooting a final grin, Shiro retreats back into the classroom where his next lesson will take place.

 _What the fuck was that. That wasn’t casual at all._ Shiro scolds himself all the way back to his seat in the back of the classroom.

_Stupid. Supid. Stupid._

He can’t help but wonder what meaning his jacket has to Keith. Is it general, or specific to him? _Does it remind him of comfort? Of home? Or does it remind him of me?_ He brushes off the latter thought. From past experience, no matter what Keith said, Shiro had always felt like the “backup”. The second choice if the first option wasn’t available, or didn’t work out.

Little did he know that he _was_ the first option, but seemed so insanely achievable that Keith didn’t even _dare_ attempt.

Bored out of his mind, he figures he needs to find _something_ to pass the time. The teacher shares information that’s probably important… something about a test? It’s fine - he can learn more in an hour of crammed self-study than in class anyway. He’s become incredible at _looking_ attentive, at least. Nobody suspects a thing. The school’s pride and joy, Takashi Shirogane - star hockey player, executive member of the student council, straight-A student, and the nicest, most polite guy you’ll ever meet - _not paying attention in class?_ Nobody would believe that for a second.

So he zones out, and he plans “tonight”. ‘ _Alright, if Keith arrives at, say, 7 - assuming that he’s gone back to his dorm first after his last class ends at 5:45 to shower and change - I’ll have exactly,’_ he looks up at the clock above Ms. Whateverthefuck’s head, _‘2 hours, and 30… 7 minutes. That should be enough time to kick Matt out and set up.’_ Sure, he needs to set up - but set up _what_ , exactly?

He pathetically racks his brain for ways to impress Keith, because he figures he needs to make a memorable impression. But, wait, Keith’s been over _dozens_ of times before - so why should this time be different? Why does it _feel_ any different?

Of course, Shiro knows full well why. And of course, he won’t admit it to himself.

Just then, his dumbest idea to date smacks him in the face. It’s _hella_ risky - probably even illegal in the school’s rulebook, but he _does_ have a squeaky clean record, and can _maybe_ pull a few strings in management. And besides, it’s already been established that he’s a total sap. What wouldn’t he do in the name of Keith?

What wouldn’t he do in the name of love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell Sheith with or at me on [tumblr](https://nasigorengart.tumblr.com/)


	4. Keith's POV: Little Big Planet, Little Horny Student

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith stares at the sight, feels downright offended in how his own biology is betraying him by the way he feels his own face rising in temperature. He’s frozen. He’s gone. The chanting in his head begins in desperation to put Keith Jr. **back the fuck down.**
> 
> _Stop, you horny fuck._ He scolds his own dick. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a lie when I said I was done with this, my indulgence will never stop, I'm sorry. 

  
_This is a fucking trap._

Is the first thing Keith thinks of when he arrives at the dorm Shiro shares with Matt, all squeaky clean and outrageously large - _a perk for the university’s best and brightest,_ he reminds himself - except something is different. Terribly different. 

Matt isn’t around, first of all, and there exists no trail or visual cue of him being around anywhere in this more-of-loft-than-dorm, in the form of his missing laptop, that Keith remembers to have washed out alien stickers all over it with its logo glowing the “alien” shade of green, as the academic scholar likes to put it.

Second, most importantly, is the sight of Shiro lying on his side on his queen-sized bed, one leg propped up and elbow outstretched to have his palm supporting his head. He may be a big guy, but a queen-sized bed is overkill, Keith thinks. The only good use of having a bed that big is for … yeah. 

The pose doesn’t help when Shiro’s wearing just the [zip-up jacket from H&M](http://www2.hm.com/en_asia5/productpage.0526250005.html) that isn’t even zipped up, and shorts with an unnecessarily condensed star pattern on it. 

Keith stares at the sight, feels downright offended in how his own biology is betraying him by the way he feels his own face rising in temperature. He’s frozen. He’s gone. The chanting in his head begins in desperation to put Keith Jr. **back the fuck down.**

_Stop, you horny fuck._ He scolds his own dick. 

“Are you just going to stand there all night?” Shiro starts, grinning a shitty grin, and pats the space in front of him. “I’m waiting, Keith.” For good measure, he sends a wink. 

“What the fuck?” He belts out without a second thought, and Shiro can’t help but laugh.

“Come on, come on. I have my PS3. Let’s play Little Big Planet.” The hockey player rolls onto his stomach and crawls over to the PS3 at the foot of their TV (Keith doesn’t think it was there last time he came over, nor does he think it’s even legal to have that in here, but whatever). His stretch to change the cd has his jacket hiking up as he suspends himself by his hand on the floor off the bed. 

His abs are slowly unraveled, and Keith bites back a scream by how god damn delicious it looks. 

“Gaaaah..” He accidentally groans out and Shiro startles, almost dropping the cd and looking at him. He pales. 

“N-No, just. Pins and needles. Give me a minute or two.” The younger of the two stutters out, gesturing to his foot. 

The hockey player stands up after successfully pushing the cd into the PS3 and makes his way to the sophomore, leaving the latter to pale even further. He shrugs as he stands in front of him before tilting his body down -

“Oh, should’ve just said so.” Shiro picks up the smaller boy, and Keith’s hand instinctively lands on his chest in surprise. The poor boy can’t even say anything with how shocked he is, with his side that could be touching his friend’s abs skin to skin if he wasn’t wearing his - oh fuck, yeah, _Shiro’s_ \- varsity jacket. 

He’s unceremoniously dropped onto the bed and he lands with a yelp. A controller is tossed onto his lap and Shiro settles his back against a pillow rested on the headboard, half his body under an extremely thick comforter. 

Keith lifts the comforter and settles himself beside Shiro, a good foot or two away from him, enough to be too far to feel conscious and near enough to not be suspicious. But Shiro doesn’t seem to be having that, moving himself and the pillow closer to Keith. He tries to entertain the first acceptable train of thought. 

“Where’s Matt?” 

Shiro starts shrugging off the jacket he’s wearing, meaning he’s now topless, and the sophomore forgets what he even asked. “Finishing a paper with Nyma and Rolo. He’s not settling for anything less than 100 pages.” He calmly replies, obviously blind to Keith’s attempts to deviate his own carnal needs. “You choose.” 

_This is going to be a long night._ Keith thinks, for himself later when he gets back to his room because he knows he’s going to have to jerk this one out. He chooses one of the levels that he hasn’t played before. 

Little does he know that it will, but for an entirely different reason. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [eye emoji] [tongue emoji] 
> 
> I don't have a fixed update period, I honestly just post when the urge comes along. My projection onto Keith is so strong... let me know what you think will happen next in the comments ;) 


	5. Shiro's POV: Little Big Planet, Little Horny Student

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro.... isn't smooth. At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i personally hc shiro as effortlessly sexy without meaning to be, and this is the little sneak peek into his head... (I lifted a bit from my bang fic but _it's not plagiarism if you copy yourself, Sharon_ )

“Tonight” arrives _way_ too soon.

In the short space of 2-and-a-half hours, he’d managed to pull at management like a marionette  to get what he needed, shoo-ed Matt out, and gone through a grand total of 16 outfit changes before he finally settles on an unzipped jacket, too-tight shorts combo. Sure, he’s _very_ modest, but he does know how to flaunt and exploit his assets.

Because, _boy_ , has he got some.

But just in case, he throws in a couple dozen reps of push-ups and sit-ups to make _sure_ he looks at his prime. He even tries out a bunch of different poses to “welcome” Keith with.

He considers the “ _oops-you-caught-me-mid-pushup-what-a-coincidence_ ,” but thankfully decides that it’s too cliche and predictable. He tries the “ _I’m-lowering-my-glasses-to-peer-at-you-from-above-them-as-I-casually-sit-on-this-conveniently-placed-chair-that-just-happens-to-face-the-door-what-a-coincidence,”_ but every time he does, his hair tuft gets tangled in the black frames, so he decides to skip this one lest he be forced to extend his undercut to his _entire_ head.

The final pose is no doubt the tackiest of them all.

It involves him lying on his side on his queen-sized bed, one leg propped up and elbow outstretched to have his palm supporting his head like some discount centerfold model. _What the actual fuck is this, this isn’t a cheesy porn_ . He’s about to try out a new one, but by the fucked up cursed luck, Keith arrives early. Keith’s _never_ been early.

So, by the powers of the Gods who obviously hate him, he’s now forced to hold that humiliating pose whilst still hoping to keep the last few shreds of dignity he has left. Keith freezes at the dorm’s entrance, and drinks in the sight. ‘ _Probably cause of how_ dumb _I look right now,’_ Shiro figures. Keith’s eyes thoroughly sweep the room; first at the lack of Matt, then at Shiro, then the queen-sized bed. Despite having known each other for years, Shiro still doesn’t have the guts to admit that the reason he has such a large bed is because he still falls off sometimes. He just can’t seem to sleep still.

After a long moment, both men have yet to say something, and Keith looks… incapable. So Shiro takes one for the team and speaks up.

“Are you just going to stand there all night?” _Shit_ , that came out a little more accusatory than he’d intended. He attempts a grin and pats the space in front of him in hopes of redemption. Keith remains still as a brick wall.

“I’m waiting, Keith.” All hope of redemption is lost as he says this, and insult is added to injury when he decides to _wink_ . ‘“ _I’m waiting, Keith”?! That’s probably the_ creepiest _thing I could’ve_ ever _said!’_ So much for acting casual.

His worst fears come to fruition as Keith exclaims a _“What the fuck?”_ in response.

That’s alright, though, because Takashi Shirogane always has a plan B. In this case, it’s to skip straight to the main event: his very illegal in-room flat screen TV and PS3 combo, complete with Little Big Planet, which he knows had always been Keith’s favourite game. But _shit_ , the console’s a bit… _far_. And Shiro’s too lazy to get off the bed to change the CD, so he resorts to unceremoniously stretching to reach it.

His jacket rides up his torso with the movement, and he _really_ regrets not wearing a shirt now, because it is _cold_.

A groan cuts his efforts short, and he panics at the thought of Keith being hurt. He heaves a sigh of relief when Keith explains that it’s just pins and needles, then proceeds with his previous action of shoving the new CD into the console.

Since his day’s been jam-packed with horrible ideas that somehow worked out, Shiro figures another won’t hurt. So when he arrives at another ridiculous thought, he just decides to roll with it. He hauls Keith into his arms, and practically throws him onto the bed (oops). It’s then when Keith decides to finally speak up.

“Where’s Matt?” _Ouch._ Shiro had spent the better part of the last hour trying to convince Matt to _please kindly fuck off_ , and now Keith’s asking for him? _Double ouch._

But he holds himself with calmness and dignity. That’s the Takashi Shirogane way.

_Patience yields focus._

So instead of freaking out, he goes on to make up some bullshit story about Matt having to go work on some paper with Nyma and Rolo. Then he makes a desperate attempt to switch the topic of conversation as quickly as possible.

“You choose.” He nods at keith, then towards the screen, which has the game’s various levels on display. Keith chooses one of the levels Shiro knows he hasn’t played before. Shiro had predicted the selection perfectly.

As the levels increase, so does the tempo of Shiro’s heart.

It beats more rapidly with every enthusiastic victory, every crippling defeat, and every moment in between, when Keith’s eyebrows furrow and his lips form the slightest pout in concentration. Shiro can’t explain why, but he’s pretty sure that it makes him just as happy to see Keith in his jacket as it does for Keith to wear it. Even though it was custom-tailored to fit Shiro’s frame down to the last millimetre, on Keith It just looked… _right._ Like it was made for _him._

He looked safe, warm, and _happy._ All of which Shiro undeniably felt too.

When Keith is pleased with himself, it’s always obvious, because he _beams._ This time’s no different. If Shiro’s being honest, he genuinely has no idea what Keith had just achieved - he's too transfixed on how the corners of Keith’s mouth are pulled up as far as they can possibly go, and how his eyebrows disappear into the locks of hair framing his face that had slipped out of his ponytail.

Then he turns to face Shiro with what could easily be mistaken as literal stars in his eyes, and the world stills. In that moment, their surroundings melt away - it’s just them. Shiro and Keith; Keith and Shiro. In a private bubble made exclusively for the two of them. As Keith’s eyes gaze into his, Shiro begins to understand that what they share really  _is_ something special.

_‘God,’_ he prays, _‘if I can’t have him, please at least give me the blessing of being able to see him smile forever.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell Sheith with or at me on [tumblr](https://nasigorengart.tumblr.com/)


	6. Keith’s POV: You Can Worship My Temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It sounds like a horrible sex dungeon name,_ Keith blurts out when it was still the loading screen. Shiro laughed, so he considers it a win.
> 
> He regrets ever saying that now. He’d rather be in a sex dungeon than this. 
> 
> With his smoking hot best friend, preferably.

Keith was supposed to go home at 10 pm.

But here he is, braving through what is possibly the most viscerally grueling Little Big Planet level in the entire known universe at the cusp of 1 am in the morning. The gap between checkpoints so small you know it means you’re going to die in between them, the necessity of an extreme level of pure concentration and command over the controller, the very audacity of this fucking game that’s **_SUPPOSED TO BE CHILD-FRIENDLY_** to make this titan satan’s asshole incarnate of a level, befitting of its name, [Temple of Punishment. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_Hxo-fZax8)

_It sounds like a horrible sex dungeon name_ , Keith blurts out when it was still the loading screen. Shiro laughed, so he considers it a win.

He regrets ever saying that now. He’d rather be in a sex dungeon than this.

With his smoking hot best friend, preferably. 

Shiro’s ball of animated disaster of a design dies for real, again, and with no sympathy whatsoever for their neighbors, Keith _screams._

**“I CAN’T DO THIS ALONE, SHIRO.”**

He can’t even whip his head to him for the added effect, not when he’s concentrating in getting through the portion alive on his own. He reaches the next set of obstacles by a hair of luck, but there’s no checkpoint in sight. Heavily breathing in trepidation, mental calculation and concentration wavering, this will be the only time he’ll ever regret taking Physics for granted. 

He’s cursing the developers of this level, swearing that this should be counted as cyberbullying. 

But before he can entertain executing that thought, he feels large calloused hands on his shoulders - _in which he, by some well-trained carnal instinct (see: kink), calculates to be able to hold two and a half in one alone_ \- and he realizes that he’s taken a position a lot closer to the screen than when they first started. 

_Those are Shiro’s hands._ He tells himself. Thrice. _These big fucking hands can wrap my whole waist. Fuck, I’m going to lose it if these hands ever hold my hips while-_

“Relax, Keith.. Patience yields focus.” 

_**Fuck.** That was hot._ He’s definitely going to jack to this for at least a month. 

“Can it yield my fucks, though.” He whispers back weakly in retort, trying to mask his own escalating wave of desire, but Keith does pause to breathe, to Shiro’s relief. He lets himself close his eyes. Concentrating on the feel of thumbs pressing trained circles onto his back, slightly pulling his shoulders with it. He lets out a low exhale, trying his best to relax while holding back a moan, a reaction to how transcendent it feels as a whole, because of course Shiro’s good at this. He’s an athlete. 

_With big sexy rough hands._

A huff of breath touches his ears and his mind short circuits, shooting a warmth straight down to his groin, leaving it loaded and ready to fire, and his body suddenly too warm under the large jacket despite the insanely cold weather. Before he can start hyper analyzing that gesture and scolding his dick for what could be a world record that night, though, a voice cuts through. 

“You’ve got this, I believe in you.” 

The massage stops, to his dismay, and Shiro pats his shoulders and gives it a small shake. He opens his eyes and looks over his shoulder, locking a gaze with the hockey player and it is then that he realizes it was a big mistake. A few inches away from his face, brimming with determination is his best friend comfortably sitting right behind him, legs stretched out on either side of Keith. The intimacy of the arrangement has the younger’s face flushing. His mouth moves before his mind processes, left in the haze of his previous dilemma. 

“I’m going to win this for you.” He says, louder than a whisper. 

_Who knew Little Big Planet could be so damn erotic._

Keith channels every drop of his robeast of a libido into a burst of sheer concentration and laser focus, aimed towards the main offender, ~~_Shiro_~~ the game. 

So what, if only a handful of people, only enough to count on one hand, have finished the Temple of Punishment in this entire known universe? 

He has the power of realigned sexual frustration and Shiro at his side. 

Nothing can come between them. 

_Not even Keith himself._

The smallest of movements of the controller’s stick are as precise as a thread through the eye of a needle, concentration as microscopic and controlled as a PUBG veteran, eyes unblinking, shoulders tense and head constantly calculating trajectory after trajectory using concepts and applications from horrid hours in AP Physics, to the non-abiding gravity of this god forsaken hellhole. The Temple of Punishment. 

* * *

He reaches the end, by some God-given miracle.

Staring at the finish pad, leaning back and dropping his controller in sheer disbelief, he feels a sliver of hope in a higher being existing, coming through for his desperate soul just when and where he needed it most. There is no previous achievement that could ever amount to the feeling of soaring he’s currently feeling. No amount of scholastic medals, certificates and trophies have been as hard won as this victory against the ninth circle of hell incarnate. Shiro’s current state is no better, Keith finds out when he turns to him, eyes wide and mouth open, and the victory is celebrated in slow-motion. 

The music from the game fizzles out into soft, more of static background noise as the two hold a gaze of pure bliss for a moment that could be perceived as a millennia, and they find themselves slowly gravitating towards each other, eyes melting into a feeling likened to fondness. Longing.

_Desperation._

He’s in love. He’s so so in love, it’s not even his dick talking anymore, Keith realizes. He’s lost in every brow on Shiro’s beautiful face, every pore, every extremely miniscule pimple scar from his rise and buff-up from puberty. He’s in love with how his arms feel like the stars and home all at once. How it’s so familiar yet makes him feel so... so above and transcendent of who he is. How it makes him _believe_ in himself, just like then and there, and knowing someone as wonderful and perfect like him would fight tooth and nail for him? Goes somewhere deep for him. Deep in his heart, and down to his groin.

It’s too much for him to bear, but before he could even consider taking a risk of a plunge, hands are balled into the jacket he’s still wearing, and he’s pulled in to a kiss so sloppy, so disaligned, yet so. Damn. Perfect.

He loses himself in it.

In Shiro.


	7. Shiro’s POV: You Can Worship My Temple, Or Punish It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys share their first kiss with Little Big Planet in the background. It goes just as well as you'd think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm usually really... soft - so this is my attempt at redemption lol

Shiro _definitely_ could’ve helped Keith a little more, but his face of defeat is simply too _adorable_ to miss.

“I CAN’T DO THIS ALONE, SHIRO.” Keith yells at Shiro in what is presumably meant to be an intimidating tone - but it just ends up making him a billion times cuter. This was all Shiro needed to convince himself to let Keith suffer for just a _liiiiittle longer_ , just so he could hear him scold him again. Oh, _fuck_ \- _does he have an authority kink?_ No, no. He just likes the sound of Keith’s voice. _Yep, that’s it._

But Keith _did_ make it clear that he needs Shiro’s support - so if he’s not gonna support in-game, then, well… he’s got to find other ways.

Let’s welcome crazy gamble number 4546786970 of the night.

He slowly ambles up to Keith, and comfortingly rests - no, _engulfs_ \- Keith’s shoulder with his hand. Keith shudders at the touch, and Shiro adds a light caress to test the waters. _So far, so good._

“Relax, Keith.. Patience yields focus.” The tension slowly eases out of Keith’s traps as Shiro kneads into them with his thumbs. “You’ve got this, I believe in you.” Shortly after, he notices that Keith’s eyes are shut. _Fuck, did he fall asleep?_ A little shake should be enough to check, he figures, so he gently rocks Keith side to side.

Keith’s head spares no moment of hesitation before whipping around so that they’re now face-to-face, and _fuuuuuuck that’s close._ Shiro nervously swallows. _He’s even more gorgeous this close, who knew that was even possible?_ They search each other’s eyes for a moment too long, electricity thrumming in the space between them. The silence is tense, but by no means uncomfortable, but then Keith decides to speak.

“I’m going to win this game for you.” It takes Shiro a good moment to process this, and when he does, he’s still _certain_ that he’d misheard. _Goddamn._

_Who knew Little Big Planet could be so damn romantic._

To Shiro’s utter surprise and disappointment, Keith wins the level. As selfish as it is to purposely tweak the game’s difficulty just to admire someone’s look of defeat, Shiro was in no way above that. It had been ages since Keith’s been single enough for them to spend this much time together, so he’s going to take everything he can, while he can.

However, he’d be lying if he said he isn’t happy for Keith. He’s _overjoyed_.

Is it cheesy to say he’s never been more proud of anyone in his life? Yeah. (Sorry, Matt, your personal commendation from NASA just doesn’t quite cut it.) Is it even cheesier to say that he’s never been this happy in his life, and that this moment beats that one time he got kicked out of Pizza Hut for getting _too good_ of a deal in their “all you can eat” promo? Definitely.

But Takashi Shirogane is not a small man, and he has the level of sapiness to match. So he did what anyone would do when overwhelmed with affection.

There’s a moment’s pause when both men gaze expectantly at each other, cautiously gauging the situation, before Shiro balls his hands into the front of Keith’s shirt and _tugs -_ caution be damned.

Their lips crash together unceremoniously, and almost painfully, and the kiss starts completely off-angle and out of sync.

But it felt _perfect._

With Little Big Planet in the background, they soon foind their rhythm - lips fitting together like missing jigsaw pieces that finally fill the gaps they’d tried to ignore for years. And now their picture is finally complete.

Their own little world - it’s just them. Shiro and Keith; Keith and Shiro. In a private bubble made exclusively for the two of them.

What’s left of Shiro’s self control dissolves completely, as Keith tilts his head to further deepen the kiss. It’s primal and messy, but surprisingly controlled at the same time. Kind of like Keith. A _lot_ like Keith. Shiro is pathetically at Keith’s mercy, and he has to bite back a moan to not embarrass himself even further.

Keith suddenly stops. Shiro panics, because _oh god what if he thinks I’m a shitty kisser, and fuck what if he just realised that I’d just single-handedly ruined our friendship, and-_

 _“_ … did you just… _moan?_ ” Oh, _fuck. Guess he didn’t bite it back after all._

_Shit shit shit. What now?_

“Uhhh…” Shiro pulls back in preparation to start explaining himself. “No! No… I just - that was a- _mmf_ !” He’s cut short as Keith grabs a generous fistful of his tuft and pulls him back down to meet the embodiment of raw hunger. A sharp nip at his bottom lip drives him _wild_ , and this time he doesn’t even _begin_ trying to stifle his moan.

“Fuck… _fuck_ , Shiro.” Keith responds by gliding his tongue across Shiro’s Cupid’s bow, impatiently waiting for the cue to continue. When Shiro opens up, Keith doesn’t miss a beat in making sure he feels so good that he has no choice but to succumb to the pleasure.

Shiro moans again, but this time it takes the form of Keith’s name. Barely.

“Kei-oh _fuck._ ” He’s overwhelmed and overstimulated, because Keith is on him and kissing him and touching him seemingly everywhere at once. “Keith…

... _baby,_ don’t stop-”

Keith freezes.

 _Shit shit shit not again._ Okay, this time Shiro’s _definitely_ sure he’d fucked up. _“Baby?!” What was he thinking?!_ They haven’t even _thought_ of discussing boundaries yet, or what this whole thing meant - what _they_ meant. He can’t just go around calling people pet names; what if Keith had a bad experience with one? They should really talk about this first, because what if-

“Say that again.”

“Wh-what?”

“Call me that again.” Keith’s eyes are piercing and dangerous, and Shiro really has no other option but to comply.

“... baby? Are you… okay with that?” He adds the second part to make absolutely _certain_ that Keith’s comfortable with this, because the last thing he wants is to upset Keith. That would break him.

With his brows furrowed, Keith pauses in faux contemplation. But his eyes give him away. They’re filled with lust and hunger, and it’s then when Shiro notices where Keith’s pressed a little harder against him.

“What do _you_ think?” Keith’s mouth cocks into a smirk and he lowers himself to minimise the gap; Shiro can feel hot breath on his ear, and the brush of a strong chin against his cheek. Kieth pauses, and the air is thick with the scent of desperation, from years and years of being deprived of something they both desperately needed.

“... whose baby am I?”

And now, Shiro finally understands.

He grabs at Keith’s hair, pulling his head back to expose his neck. Shiro almost misses the whimper that escapes Keith’s throat as _he’s_ the one left exposed and vulnerable for the first time that night. Not loosening his grip, Shiro shifts upright to take advantage of his height, towering over Keith - but still keeping the distance between their faces almost nonexistent. He answers then, voice low, ensuring Keith knows it’s for him, and him only.

“ _Mine._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come yell Sheith with or at me on [tumblr](https://nasigorengart.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> ; u; I feel Keith so much I'm so thirsty for oversized jackets (except I don't have ex-boyfriends and I'm a gay girl lol) 
> 
> CHECK OUT NASI'S WORK [HERE](https://nasigorengart.tumblr.com) AND THE BOYFRIEND JACKET PIC THAT STARTED IT ALL [HERE](https://xymaaaa.tumblr.com/post/173209694135/nasigorengart-this-beauty-is-the-product)
> 
> BJH HAS A [MOODBOARD](https://xymaaaa.tumblr.com/post/173275953620/boyfriend-jacket-hoarder-by-xymaaaa-for-and-with) !!! COME CHECK IT OUT
> 
> talk sheith / follow for updates ! (Xy)
> 
> Tumblr: xymaaaa  
> Twitter: [xymaaaa](https://twitter.com/xymaaaa)
> 
> Hiiiii Nasi here! I've joined the party lol... come to my [tumblr](https://nasigorengart.tumblr.com/) or drop a comment if you wanna yell Sheith!!!


End file.
